


to remind me

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Draco is caught up in a memory and regret and wondering, EWE, Eighth year memories, F/M, present day is 3 years since 8th year, rates M for language only.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:34:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25120195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Originally written for Into the New Millennium Flash Fiction Competition hosted in Dumbledore’s Armada. Thank you to my dear, dear friends niffizzle and QuinTalon for reading this nonsense before hand and encouraging me to post 💙❤️Song Title: Chasing CarsArtist: Snow PatrolYear: 2006Lyric inspiration: “If I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?”
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 35
Kudos: 78





	to remind me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Into the New Millennium Flash Fiction Competition hosted in Dumbledore’s Armada. Thank you to my dear, dear friends niffizzle and QuinTalon for reading this nonsense before hand and encouraging me to post 💙❤️
> 
> Song Title: Chasing Cars  
> Artist: Snow Patrol   
> Year: 2006  
> Lyric inspiration: “If I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

* * *

She’s here. 

_ Here.  _

Hermione Granger is in the bloody archives for Salazar only knows what reason, and he’s fucking  _ hiding _ . Like the fucking coward he is. She’s waiting at the front desk, looking about the room with that keen, expectant gaze, giving a dainty clearing of her throat and he’s—

—he’s still a wanker for knowing she’s there and choosing to hide in hopes she’ll eventually go away.

_ But do I want her to leave?  _ He takes a moment for self-reflection because, no. He doesn’t—not really. He didn’t want her to leave three the last time he’d been caught in a similar situation with her three years ago. It’s simply a fact of his existence now that it’s easier (read: uncomplicated and emotionally safer) to remain silent and avoid Granger as much as possible. 

Because he doesn’t want to tell her. 

In fact, Draco Malfoy is willing to admit he’d rather suffer through a great many other tortures rather than face Granger at the archives desk and have to take up his quill and write out: ‘ _ Good afternoon. How may I help you today?’ _ They’re words he writes out everytime someone comes to ask for assistance at the front desk, because he can’t speak. He and his friends have had time to adjust to the fact he was hit with an unknown spell or curse during the battle of Hogwarts and he esteemed and illustrious Healer’s of St. Mungo’s haven’t been able to find a cure or reversal in all this time. Strangers coming to the desk can keep their smug vindication when they recognise who he is.

But Granger is different breed of dragon altogether and he doesn’t want to see the usual cocktail of emotions flash across her face upon learning he’s now mute: surprise, shock, vindication, and pity. Maybe he’ll be lucky and she’ll leave off the pity. She seemed put out enough by him the majority of eighth year...

Save for late that  _ one _ night. 

That last night before leaving Hogwarts for good, in the haunting hours of exhausting silence between midnight and dawn. When sleep was elusive and dark memories roamed free. When she’d given him the shock of his life (which is saying a great deal) come up to the door to his quarters and, strange as it sounds,  _ talked _ . 

He’s tried to convince himself over the years that it’s crazy. That he was She never knocked and what he thinks is a memory is nothing more than a conjured projection of his overactive imagination… That it’s part of his punishment and penance to society that the voice of Hermione Granger fills his mind at random moments of the day still with things he  _ didn’t _ really hear that night. 

Apologetic like: “ _ I’ve been mad at you this entire year still, and I’m sorry. Just because you apologised doesn’t mean we have to get on, and I’m sorry for putting that expectation on you.”  _ And then there are the understanding offerings like: “ _ I never see you talk to anyone, not even Theo. You never answer in class, either. If something was wrong I wish you could tell me.”  _ Worse still was the memory of empathy: “ _ Hypocritical of me to wish Gryffindor bravery on you when I can’t even work up the nerve to knock and see if you’re awake or not. If you’ve heard anything I’ve said, or if I’ve been talking to myself outside your door...” _

Yes, it’s easy enough to convince himself that night was a dream, but Theo has this way of bringing it up every-so-often, because being friends with Theo, Granger must have told him about it at some point in time, which was poor judgement on her part, really. It’s impossible to keep a secret when he thinks the secret is something someone specific should know. 

So, there’s nothing left to do but come to terms with the fact nothing from that night is a dream. For reasons Granger herself voiced aloud she wasn’t sure of, she came to his room the last night at Hogwarts their eighth year and decided instead of talking to his face, she could appease her conscience with a confession to an unlistening door. 

He’s caught himself wondering over the years, though, what would have happened if he’d opened the door? 

What if he’d cast a non-verbal spell and allowed her to cross the threshold into his personal space? What if he’d laid on the bed and watched as she internally debated entering or not? 

Would she have come in? And if he hadn’t gotten up—if he’d continue to lay over the blanket of his bed, watching her as she watched him—would she eventually have figured it out? Would she finally have put together all the pieces to the puzzle of why he hadn’t spoken a word to her all year? Would she come to understand that he’s been hexed or cursed mute and that all the professors had been working with him outside of class to help him master N.E.W.T. level non-verbal magic? 

Would she have understood that in opening the door he was telling her in his own way he was sorry.  _ Again _ . That he’s sorry for all the times he avoided her that year, and that part of him wanted to join her study group with Longbottom, Lovegood, and Theo. Would she have understood the duality of  _ want _ in the midst of impossible? 

Would she have extended grace and climbed onto the bed with him and just… laid there, too? Did memories of deeds and deaths of the previous year chase her throughout the night, too? Could she also comprehend the burden of being  _ alive _ while yearning for freedom from scars that cut too deep? Would she have allowed the silence to permeate and absorb all the unknowns of the future, and entered into a state of peace and acceptance for what had passed and what would be with him? 

He releases a pained sigh. 

He can’t keep fixating on what  _ could have _ and  _ might have  _ been. 

And if he doesn’t get a sodding grip here and now, he’ll miss out on the chance to see what  _ can  _ and  _ will _ happen today. 

Straightening to his full height, he drops his hold from the doorknob of the breakroom and smooths the creases from his trousers. He allows himself another couple of seconds to adjust his tie and practice a smile that is more genuine than nervous… 

And opens the door. 

And crosses the threshold into the unknown.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!!!


End file.
